


The Road We Walk

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-05
Updated: 2005-11-26
Packaged: 2019-01-19 16:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12413745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Enter: Angsty!James, Indecisive!Lily, Serious!Sirius, Dark!OC, and many more. Add a touch of Mysterious!DarkLord and Demanding!Voices, and what do you get? A piece that began years ago, and now has spun into something that just might be worth reading.





	1. Prologue: Enter Many

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Author’s Notes:  So… I haven’t written anything in a long time.  And this was written a _very very long_ time ago, so please don’t laugh at it.  I promise it gets better–I just… I feel like reworking it kinda ruins the original feel, so I’m leaving even the first few horrible chapters.  And anyway… ramble aside… I don’t own anything, and it’s all the property of J.K.R.  I just take them to play.

…

Severus Snape and Sirius Black were seated together on the train, happily discussing that summer's World Cup. (Now tuck those jaws in, this is a serious moment.) "Did you see Cleaton Race?!" Sirius was exclaiming, while leaping suddenly onto his chair. "He was like, whoosh!" Sirius proceeded to hop to the seat opposite him, "And then, Bam!" Sirius swung his wand like a bat, illustrating the picture. "It was SO awesome Sevs; my dad HAS to get us tickets again next year!" He was panting slightly as he lowered himself back to his seat, long, chocolate bangs falling over his deep sapphire eyes.

 

Severus laughed as his silvery eyes, warm despite their steely hue, watched his friend's enthusiastic movements. Sevs grabbed eagerly into the pile of Bertie Bott's, chucking a handful into his mouth and ignoring the odd taste mixture. "No kidding, Sirius. Poland winning by loads, it was great. I hope England goes next year, though."

 

"Just wait till we play for England! They'll be unstoppable! Our names 'll be flashing on the board; Beaters S. Black and S. Snape, the unbeatable beating team!" Sirius stuffed a chocolate frog in his mouth. "'Course, we got to stay really good now, so the scouts notice just how awesome we are."

 

In truth, Severus was just a mediocre player. While good on a broomstick, he had little strength, with such a thin figure. Sirius, however, was amazing. His swing was powerful for a mere eleven year-old, and he was both fast and nimble. No one had ever taken the time to notice that Sevs wasn't so great, not with Sirius beating everything that came within the field, and some things– _and_ people–out of it.

 

Of course, it made no difference to friends. "Yea, maybe we can make the team this year, even though it doesn't happen a lot."

 

Sirius frowned, then shook his head. "Nope, Andromeda says the only team without beaters is Hufflepuff, and I'm not bein' in that sissy house."

 

Sevs laughed, softly, as if afraid of disturbing the humor. "You'll be a Slytherin, for sure. You're whole family is, 'cept Andry; and Ravenclaw ain't too shabby either."

 

"What about you, mate? You're bound for Slytherin if you follow your Da, or Ravenclaw if you take after your Mum. I bet we'll be Slytherins though." Sirius frowned, suddenly. "Y'know what Andry said the other day?"

 

"What?"

 

"She wanted t'know why I wanted to be in Slytherin so bad. Said there was plenty of other good houses out there. As if anyone _wouldn't_ want t'be a Slytherin, 'specially when you're a Black." He paused, then looked at Sevs, "Or a Snape. Or a Malfoy. Or a LeStrange. Or an Avery. Or..."

 

But he found himself suddenly cut off by the opening of the door. A short, scrawny kid stood in the entranceway to the compartment, a tangle of messy black locks falling over his face. There were glasses covering his hazel eyes, and a gorgeous golden owl perched on his shoulder. "Sorry,"the boy said, pushing up his glasses, "I'll go find someplace else." 

 

However, as the boy shut the door and left, Sirius Black turned to Severus Snape, his eyes now surprisingly solemn for the formerly energetic youth. "Sevs, promise me somethin'."

 

"Okay," he agreed readily.

 

"Promise me we'll be best mates forever."

 

Severus grinned, dark eyes honest and sincere. "Best mates forever, you can count on it."

…

(While it seems all too interesting to sit on the conversation more, the author has decided she would rather follow the rumpled looking boy, who left us only a few paragraphs ago.)

 

James Potter moved on to the next compartment, still looking for a place at least moderately uninhabited. "This," he declared, "is the last time I'm late for the train. There's no," he peaked inside a door, "bloody,"stuck his head into another, "compartments." Aha! At last, there were only two boys in here, and one was asleep. The other sat silently, staring out the window with a remarkably hopeful look on his face, like a child taking their first steps out the door.

 

"Hey,"James said softly, and the boy turned to look at him. "D'you mind if I sit in here, there's practically nowhere left."

 

The boy hesitated, cocking his head to the side while assessing James broodily with grey-blue eyes. At last, he nodded his head slowly, sandy-brown hair flopping even in its short cut.

 

"Thanks," Potter said readily, stepping inside the compartment and throwing himself down onto the seat across from the boy. "I'm James, James Potter." He offered a friendly hand, giving him a half-grin.

 

"Remus Lupin,"the boy responded in an almost whispery voice, like one used far too inoften. He shook James hand agreeably, offering a small smile. "You're a first year?"

 

"Yea,"James commented, "I've heard so many stories though, from my Mum and Da--I hope it lives up to the tales."

 

Remus smiled shyly. "I haven't heard much. My Mum, the witching side of the family, isn't around too often. Plus, she's not a big one for stories."

 

A nod was the answer. "So, what house was she in?"

 

It was the common first question, and one answered readily. "Ravenclaw; most of the family’s been Ravenclaw, with the occasional black sheep in Slytherin or Hufflepuff. No Gryffindors though. What about yours?"

 

"They were both Gryffindors. Everybody in my family is in Gryffindor. It's been like that for ages."

 

"Oh," Remus said softly, looking downcast. They both knew it was pretty common for students to be sorted into their parent's house, especially when there was a line so specific as to be completely Gryffindors. It was a slightly depressing thought, to know how unlikely it was that the first person you met probably wouldn't be a part of your Hogwarts House.

 

There was a sudden snore, and James turned his attention to the sleeping boy. He was plump, though not overly so, with thin, mouse brown hair. The robes he wore were shabby, but serviceable, and his snores were quite loud. "Who's he?" James asked curiously, after returning his gaze to Remus.

 

"Peter. He's a first year too, fell asleep two minutes after lugging his stuff on the train." James nodded, and the pair fell silent, interrupted only be Peter's rumbling snores.

 

After a while, Lupin picked up the book that had been sitting beside him, and was soon completely caught up in it. James twiddled his thumbs anxiously, before stretching out across his seat and revealing his wand. Some moments later, Remus felt a gentle breath of air brush swiftly by his cheek.

 

"Oops,"James commented, looking sheepish as he fell under Remus's cool look. "Sorry, but I was practicing."

 

"Practicing what?"

 

James suddenly seemed to be smothering a laugh, as if just realizing some object of great humor. Soon he burst into outrageously loud laughter, and he pointed to Remus's hair. Lupin's hand went hurriedly to his hair, staring in horror as the locked pulled before his eyes seemed to be a startling shade of red, littered with gold sparkles.

 

When the other boy turned to look at James, he found himself falling silent. The minutes ticked by, the tension in the air thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, finally, a wide grin broke out on Remus's face. "How did you do that?!" He cried, eyes blazing with a formerly hidden energy.

 

James grinned brightly back. "Simple thing, really. I found it in this." He tossed a book across the aisle, and Remus read the title while his grin grew.

 

"The Art of Pranking: A Damn Fine Art Indeed! This is so cool, where'd you get it?"

 

"Stole it from my da's library. He almost fainted when he found me in there. I never knew there was such great stuff in books, else I woulda gone sooner."

 

"Have you ever tried the spell on a large scale," Remus asked excitedly?!

 

"Well, this one time..."

 

Suffice to say, that compartment was no longer silent.

…

Lily Evans was incredibly nervous. You never would have guessed it, looking at her picturesquely confident outward appearance. She was dressed in a pair on long, comfortable jeans that fit her petite frame quite well. Her t-shirt was a simple one of navy blue, with sky blue vines on the sleeves, collar, and hem. A ponytail held her mass of dark red, curly hair, and accentuated the loveliness of her face. She bore a charming little smile, and there was a brush of freckles over her creamy skin. But it was her eyes that caught the eye. Large, almond shaped eyes that glittered with a brilliant emerald.

 

However, appearances are quite deceiving, for internally, Lily Evans was frightened out of her wits. Apart from Diagon Alley, she had a never been to anyplace magical. Now, she found herself surrounded by people eagerly shouting out the statistics of something called quidditch, or rambling on about how their house was going to win the cup, or the latest in magical hair care, or the new man recently put in Azkaban (What was Azkaban?), and the absurdity and sheer immenseness of it all was overwhelming her.

 

However, she had managed to find a compartment reasonably early, and it wasn't long until the door open once again and two girls bounded in. 

 

The first had her chocolate brown hair pulled back in a ponytail; dark brown eyes alight with laughter. She was dressed in simple muggle jeans, and a loose, dark green t-shirt with a large monkey on it. She was grinning, a wide grin that seemed to want to encompass her entire face, including her dusting of dark freckles. She was also, quite tall. Tall enough to appear to be at least a third year.

 

Next to her, the other girl was dwarfed, not even being five feet tall. She had long, blonde hair that fell down her shoulders in unruly curls, and blue eyes that sparkled with buoyant enigma. Her own garb was a pair of jean shorts, frayed at the edges, and a white tank top with a light blue, quarter-length sleeved shirt over it. She wore large hoops in her ears, and seemed to have an almost aristocratic presence. When her eyes turned to meet Lily’s, Lily found herself smiling back shyly, the casualty with which these girls talked marking them as friends.

 

However, the blonde quickly tossed out a hand in greeting, directing her flashy smile at Lily. “Hey, I’m Dorcas Meadows, and this bucket of bubbles is Crystal Howling.”�

 

“ _I’m_ the bucket of bubbles; _you’re_ the one who put all the sugar in the tea! It’s all _your_ fault!”� Crystal cried, shoving Dorcas playfully.

 

Dorcas stuck her tongue out at Crystal, causing a surprised giggle to emerge from Lily’s lips. “I’m Lily Evans.”� She told them, and Dorcas laughed and directed her attention to Lily.

 

“Nice ta meet ya, Lily. Mind if we sit in here? This place’ll be packed soon, and we need to stay with cool people. In other words, get as far away from Slytherins as possible!”� She suddenly looked incredibly suspicious as she sized Lily up. “You’re not a Slytherin, are you?”�

 

“I’m a first year,”� Lily explained calmly, silently hoping they wouldn’t desert her for being, well, probably younger than them.

 

Crystal’s eyes lit up, “Really? Awesome! I am too, though Dorcas here is a second year. We know each other from these boring tea parties our mothers love.”�

 

“Ravenclaw,”� Dorcas exclaimed, before Lily could even ask the question. Lily grinned, and nodded happily, but kept her silence.

 

“So…”� Crystal drawled, lounging in a seat. “Got any family, Lily?”�

 

“I have this awful sister, and a terrible Pomeranian. His name’s Scooter…”�

…

After a long period of time, the train finally drew to a stop. From there, a multitude of either incredibly fearful or incredibly cheerful first-years trotted into a pack, following the shouts a giant man. He was calling, “Firs years o’er here, o’er here all ye midgets!”� So the students, being the midgets that they were, trailed after him obediently.

 

The sky above them was pitch black, as if someone had thrown a blanket across the stars. Not even the moon, which would have been half-full, glinted from beneath the cover of darkness. The wind, too, was perfectly still. It seemed to be awaiting something, like the herd before the attack of the predator. It was eerie, to know that stillness lay even in the Forbidden Forest, as happened only once in millennia. Most of them didn’t notice, chattering softly as they were, but a few of the more perceptive children did.

 

“Did you feel that?”� James asked Remus and Peter curiously as they continued towards the lake.

 

“Feel what?”� Peter voice was slightly squeaky, his beady eyes wide in his terrified state.

 

“That chill. Like, I dunno, like you just looked death in the eye–“

 

“Or moonlight washed over your face…”� Remus continued.

 

“Like blood seeped over your hands,”� Sirius was saying somewhere.

 

“As if fire was liquid,”� Sevs continued.

 

Lily was saying, “I thought it was the loss of something great.”�

 

“Treachery. It felt like treachery.”� Crystal agreed.

 

Anyone else wouldn’t have felt it. But these six, they were marked for something. Marked for something perhaps beyond their reach. Marked by one who did not yet exist. But marked, above all, by a fate of anguish. Their road would be difficult. Their road would be painful.

 

But for them, the road would not be lonely.

…

The first-years now filed slowly into the Great Hall, clumped like the anxious novices they were. A few didn’t look it, and fewer still didn’t act it. But they all were.

 

After taking their place on the platform of the hall, they all stood silently, a few twisting hands or hair, others biting nails or rolling wrappers in their pockets. One was messing up his hair, a nervous habit developed early on.

 

Professor McGonagall sophisticatedly approached the stool, her lips drawn in thin line. Now, all eyes turned to the battered hat that sat upon it, most of them merely expectant. Several moments passed, before the hat finally opened its mouth and began to sing, its tone uncannily forlorn.

 

There comes a day

When courage calls

When men rise up

When hope may fall

 

This time will need

The union’s blood

To stand and face

He who will come

 

You must unite

Students of four

Bring forth your strength

Open the doors

 

You have your deeds

You have your traits

Follow your house

Destined by fates

 

Perhaps you walk

The just and loyal

Then in Hufflepuff

Must you soon toil

 

Maybe you stroll

Through books and smarts

Then Ravenclaw

Is where you start

 

Come if you sneak

Through ambitious cunning

To Slytherin

You will find yourself turning

 

But if you stalk

Through bravery beyond all

Then in Gryffindor

You will surely fall

 

But beware, all ye

Who come this year

For you will live

To darkness fear

 

The silence lasted for far too many moments, ticking heavy with anticipation, surprise, and horror. Dumbledore sat silently in his great chair, the twinkle lost from his eyes and a look of deep depression and regret in them. He paused, looking around the faces of these new, now forewarned, children. For they were still children, but he knew in his heart that their innocence would be short lived. As the hat had warned, times were coming of great evil. His eyes landed longest on the six who had felt a chill that evening, and he paused. 

 

These would be the ones to face it. These would be their leaders.

 

With that, he smiled, and then coughed delicately. “Minerva, if you could please resume the sorting.”� He spoke quietly, just loud enough for her to hear him, but it broke her out of the unnatural state of gloom she had been in.

 

“Of course, Dumbledore,”� she replied, and then stepped forward. “Adkins, Jeremy,”� she read coolly off.

 

A nervous looking boy crept forward. It wasn’t long until the hat declared him “Hufflepuff!”� with quite a shout.

 

“Black, Sirius.”�

 

“Go get ‘em, mate,”� Severus whispered. Sirius gave him a reckless grin, and sauntered calmly to the hat. A moment later, it fell over his eyes.

 

_My, my, my_ , a voice spoke, _what have we here? A Black, aye? You’ve got the genes, that’s for sure. The ambition, too. The cunning, I have no doubt. But, dear boy, you don’t seem to have the treachery. No, you’re far too loyal for that. Almost dog-like, I would say. Admittedly, a rather ferocious beast, but loyal all the same. Not just though, too hot-tempered for that. Not the right amount of wisdom. Of course, I can already tell you’re quite intelligent, but I don’t think Ravenclaw’s for you, either. Bravery, though. You’re quite brave; almost foolishly so. Incredibly difficult to place, Mr. Black. But I think I have it._

__

“Gryffindor!”�

 

The entire hall fell silent. A Black had never, _ever_ , been in Gryffindor. You had the occasional Andromeda, and the once-in-a-century Hufflepuff. But _Gryffindor_?! It was preposterous.

 

Sirius stood, rather shakily, an expression of great confusion on his face. He bit his lip, looking down as the hall remained silent and he walked unsteadily towards the Gryffindor table. He had not the least idea why he was going in that direction, only that the hat had commanded it. And the hat was never wrong. _Bull_ , Sirius thought silently. _It’s wrong this time, and I’m not going to let it manipulate me like that. I’m going to **hate** these Gryffindor Goodies. I swear it._

__

“DeSaber, Garcias,”� was next, and was sorted into Ravenclaw. Then, “Evans, Lily.”�

 

Lily hadn’t quite figured out why no one had cheered for that Black fellow. Maybe the Gryffindors weren’t very nice. She wasn’t all too sure. She had heard so much about them, though… And then the hat was covering her eyes, and she had no more time to think.

 

_Hello Miss Evans. I’ve been expecting you. But you’ve come, and just on time. For it will soon be your time, Miss Evans. You’ll be needing these traits. And what are they? Let’s see; a brilliant mind, absolutely brilliant, you’ve got plenty of loyalty too, mixed with a touch of ambition. But yes, exactly what I was hoping for. Courage, Miss Evans. I congratulate you for it._

__

“Gryffindor!”� The hat shouted for the second time. Cheers and clapping rang out from Gryffindor table, at least, from everyone but Sirius. She trotted to the table, beaming, and took a seat diagonal to Sirius’s. He scowled at her, but Lily only offered a shy smile in return.

 

Of the following, three became Ravenclaws, and there were two for both Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Lily up hopefully when McGonagall read, “Howling, Crystal.”�

 

Crystal smiled as she ambled to the stool, hands in pockets and an air of easy confidence surrounding her. As the hat pulled over her eyes, she heard its words within her mind. _Howling, is it? And bursting with talent, I see. You all have been quite the exciting year. I’ll be listening for you, when the news rolls in to the office. But let’s see… Not a Hufflepuff, that I can tell. Not exactly huge on justice, are we? Smart, too, but not studious. You’re brave, quite brave. But also cunning. Sly. I have a feeling that you may even be treacherous, when you’re loyalty hasn’t been placed with those you love. You’ve got a cool heart, but a quick tongue. I believe, Miss Howling, that I know where your part is to be played._

__

“Slytherin!”� The Slytherins applauded politely, but Crystal was shocked. Her? A Slytherin? But… She could _never_ be so evil… Could she? Her steps were slow as she approached the table, a mask drawn over her expression. She appeared bored as she took her seat, and the expression held throughout the rest of the ceremony. But on the inside, she was befuddled. Oh, how very, very, confused.

 

Several people afterward, the name “Lupin, Remus,”� was read off. He went willingly to it, hiding the fact that he was frightened. Frightened that perhaps the hat would simply send him home, order that no werewolf was worthy of Hogwarts.

 

_You have no need to worry, Mr. Lupin. Werewolves are quite accepted. Rowena Ravenclaw’s son was one. You’d do well in that house, I believe. You have an incredible mind, and quite the capacity to learn. You’d do well, but it’s not where you belong. Not with that strength, or that heart. Don’t fret, Mr. Lupin, I know the perfect place._

__

“Gryffindor!”� Remus was a bit surprised, but altogether relieved. He had hoped for Ravenclaw, even Hufflepuff. He had believed the evil in him would send him straight to Slytherin. But Gryffindor?! It was bloody fantastic!

 

He hardly had taken his seat, two places from Sirius, when McGonagall continued, “Potter, James.”�

 

Earlier, James had been confident. But a Black was in Gryffindor, and Howling, who he knew was a decent girl, had been put in Slytherin. Maybe the Sorting Hat was messing up. It certainly seemed like it.

 

**_You._** _You are the one for whom I have waited. For whom **we** have waited. _ And suddenly, the Sorting Hat was not one voice, but four; a mixture of bass and alto, light and dark, silver and gold. _You know already where you belong,_ it boomed, _and you will be there. But first, you must be told. You are the warrior. You are the leader. You are the lion. It will be your choices that change the future. Others will later be the sword, but you must be the one to forge it. Forge it well, lion. Forge it well._

__

The hat fell silent within his mind, and a moment later called a proud, “Gryffindor!”� James strolled to the table where and took seat beside Remus, completely oblivious to the loud applause. Instead, he was mulling over his warning. Or perhaps it was guidance. Either way, he knew it was not what the hat normally said. No, this was different. But how? And why? Why him, to “forge”� the “sword”�? And what was the sword? The questions would not leave his mind, swirling and mixing and reforming till he was so lost that all features began to fade.

 

He didn’t even hear Minerva call out, “Snape, Severus.”� Severus walked up to the hat slowly, still in shock from seeing his best mate sorted into the terrible _Gryffindor_. Wasn’t Gryffindor, like… Good?

 

_Yes, Mr. Snape, Gryffindors are often known for being ‘good’. But not always; just as not all Slytherins are ‘bad’. Perhaps you should think about the similarities sometime, it’s rather illuminating. You could belong in either of these, I think. You could belong in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, also. But I think, Mr. Snape, that I will leave that choice to you. Where will you walk?_ Severus sat, his mind completely empty for several seconds, and then a single thought arose. “I want to be a Slytherin,”� he whispered, so softly that not a single person overheard. The hat seemed to sigh, but he could feel agreement. _Very well then, Mr. Snape._

__

“Slytherin!”�

…

Severus Snape and Crystal Howling were amongst the eleven first-years that entered Slytherin’s common room. They glanced around, but neither seemed to really care for the stone walls covered in thick tapestries, or the elegant rugs underfoot or the collection of high-backed chairs and sofas arranged around the room. Indeed, neither seemed to be caring about anything at all.

 

But Severus was caring very much. Indeed, he was beginning to regret his decision to become a Slytherin. He had just abandoned his best friend in the whole world. He could have readily become a Gryffindor, and stayed completely comfortable with Sirius. Hell, he could’ve become a Ravenclaw and still been friends with him. But Slytherins and Gryffindors weren’t friends. They certainly weren’t best mates. Already, he had managed to begin splitting the promise from the train.

 

Crystal was also quite concerned. She was curled up on armchair near Snape’s, studying her hands. They were Slytherin hands now. Because she was treacherous. The hat had said she was treacherous. She didn’t believe it, not really. She had never been disloyal to her friends. At least, not the ones that were loyal to her, too. Only now, now she was going to be classified as a deceiving Slytherin. Wonderful. There went her life.

 

Both Severus and Crystal had fallen into depression within the next month.

…

In the Gryffindor common room, things were going much better. For most people, at least. James, Remus, and Peter were seated in one corner of the room, excitedly going over the details of the latest quidditch news. Sirius had nearly tuned them out, but it wasn’t long until their conversation began to disgust him.

 

Potter knew about quidditch, that he could tell. But Remus was going purely on statistics, and that little fat dude–didn’t know his name–was clearly not educated in the highly specialized field of quidditch debate. It wasn’t long after they began to discuss Poland that he groaned, causing their attention to turn to him. “Idiots, Race is _clearly_ the best player on the team. A quidditch _wannabe_ could see that.”�

 

There was a short pause, then James slowly began to grin. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Black. Hapsbugle is the most important. He’s the fastest, has all the awesome tricks–“

 

“And has no strength whatsoever. If Romania had just run one bludger into him, he would’ve toppled right off the broom.”�

 

“Are you serious?”� James began, but Black cut him off.

 

“As a matter of fact, I am.”� There was a short pause, and then James began to laugh quite heartily.

 

“Alright,”� he finally managed to gasp out, “got me there. For the moment, I retreat. Expect me back in a few days.”� He smirked slyly, “ _after_ , me ‘n Remus have a bit of fun.”�

 

“What are you going to do?”� Sirius asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

 

“Turn the first-year girl’s hair red with gold sparkles. We’ve been practicing.”�

 

“Oh!”� Sirius was suddenly quite excited, and there was a real, true smile spreading on his face. “It’s from The Art of Pranking: A Damn Fine Art Indeed!, right?”�

 

“You’ve read it?”� James asked, eager to find someone else who loved pranking just as much as he did.

 

“’Course I have! C’mon, let me help!”� Sirius paused, then added as a hesitant afterthought, “Please?”�

 

“Sure,”� James said calmly. “They’re over there; let’s head out, men.”�

 

The three boys stood slowly, creeping carefully towards the group of four girls. Peter departed from them, acting as the diversion by settling next to them and beginning to explain in great detail about some random event. James, Sirius, and Remus were extremely careful as they halted. Each chose a target, aiming their wands expertly. James leaned closer, and whispered, “On my count.”�

 

There was a pause. “Three… Two… One… Go!”� He whispered fiercely, and the three muttered the words of the charm at the exact same moment. James had doubled his, so it might encompass two girls.

 

The golden sparkles were enough to send all of the boys in to amicable laughter, giving each other cheerful high-fives. They barely noticed when one girl, on whom the read hair seemed entirely natural, stepped up to them. She scowled, glaring at the trio. “Who are _you_?”� Lily demanded.

 

“James Potter, at your service.”� He told her with a cheeky grin.

 

“Would you mind explaining this?”� She tugged her ponytail, her scowl deepening.

 

“I think it looks charming,”� he told her, straight-faced and sincere.

 

She slapped him. “Like hell it does, James _Potter_. You’ve been forewarned; I like my revenge.”�

 

He watched the retreating back of a certain red-head, and suddenly found himself break into a huge, loony grin. _I’m going to marry that girl._

__

…

A/N:  Ah!  I know!  Don’t throw the tomatoes yet, please! 


	2. Plans of a Staircase

A/N:  Sorry it took so long to put this up!  And yes…  this story is still in it’s ancient, decidedly fluffy and clichéd stage, so I apologize again.

 

~*~

 

James Potter ambled slowly through the door to Dumbledore’s office, hands tucked into his pockets, slightly confused as to why he had been called here a week before term began. He was dressed for comfort, in loose jeans and sneakers, his t-shirt sporting the English quidditch team’s logo. The tangle of black locks covering his scalp fell over his eyes, and he brushed them impatiently back before dropping into the chair before Dumbledore’s desk.

 

Albus Dumbledore surveyed James silently from over the top of his half-moon spectacles. He had no idea as to what to do with the boy. Albus knew quite well that James was talented, the most talented student he had seen since Tom Riddle. Of course, the boy had fun with it. He loped around the school pranking everything that walked, and plenty that didn’t. While Dumbledore had always enjoyed the displays of the Gryffindor boys, he knew James was about to face real danger, and he knew you couldn’t do it with a box of Zonko’s fireworks.

 

James shifted uncomfortable under Dumbledore’s piercing gaze, before asking, “What did I do now?”�

 

Albus laughed, smiling warmly at the boy. “Nothing, James; unless, of course, you have something to confess.”�

 

James grinned back, and shook his head. “You know me; I’m never in any trouble.”�

 

Albus nodded once again, having seen firsthand how well James could charm his way out of punishment. The boy hadn’t earned a single detention fourth year, managing to wheedle every teacher into letting his merry band of men’s pranks slide.

 

“Of course not,”� Dumbledore responded. “But I assure you, you are not here because you are in trouble. But rather, because others are. Trouble of the other variety, however; they are in danger.”�

 

Potter remained outwardly cool, though with a slightly curious air. “What d’you mean, sir?”�

 

“I have had warnings of the rising a new dark wizard. It is rumored that he is more powerful than Grindewald, and is swiftly gaining followers. They will be attacking soon, Mr. Potter; before the term starts. I was hoping that you would allow several students to reside in your home until term starts again,”� Dumbledore explained.

 

“Er, sir, wouldn’t it make more sense for them to stay here?”�

 

“It would, but I must depart from the school within the next two days to visit the Americans. I do not want anyone remaining here unsupervised and unprotected.”�

 

James appeared slightly confused for several minutes after Dumbledore’s statement. “There won’t be anyone to protect them at home, either.”�

 

James’s hazel eyes were suddenly locked with Dumbledore’s blue ones, and he found himself a bit unnerved by the amount of power that suddenly seemed to roll through the room. _“You, Mr. Potter, will be there.”�_ But that was not Dumbledore’s voice speaking, it was the voice he had heard so long ago, back when he had first perched beneath the Sorting Hat. _“You will be there; you and the first rank. You will have the hammer, Mr. Potter. You must begin to forge. Before it is too late.”�_

__

Then it was gone, and Dumbledore was settling slowly back in his chair. “Do you understand, Mr. Potter?”� He asked, his voice once more that of the ancient professor.

 

“No, sir,”� he answered, before thinking about what he was saying.

 

Albus smiled wanly. “It will be difficult, and you are not meant to fully understand. However, believe the Voices That Speak. They guide all heroes–and all villains–to their destiny.”�

 

James sighed and shrugged. “I’ll figure it out later, sir. For now, let’s talk about this next week.”�

 

The headmaster smiled gently, worried still, but went willingly with the change of topic. “Very well, James. I will be sending some of the greatest targets to your home, as the Potter manor is quite well protected.”� James nodded in agreement, but said nothing. Dumbledore continued, “Sirius Black is already staying with you, I believe. I know also that Remus Lupin spends a great deal of time at your home; please invite him for this next week. With his condition, Remus could be a well-sought after prey. Your other friend, too, Peter Pettigrew, should return to your home. His is easily attacked, and could be done so in order to harm Sirius, Remus, and yourself.”� Now he halted, knowing the next two choices would not be easy for James to accept. “Crystal Howling and Severus Snape–“

 

But he got no further, for James was instantly on his feet. “ _No_ Slytherin enters my home,”� he spat, eyes glowing ferociously.

 

“Perhaps not yet. However, this is necessary. Besides, I think you will soon find that Crystal contains less Slytherin properties than she demonstrates. I know very well that the Sorting Hat had a difficult time placing her.”� Dumbledore spoke directly, and James knew that the argument could not be won.

 

“Fine, Crystal can come. But not Snivellus, he’ll murder us in our sleep!”�

 

“James,”� the headmaster said warningly, “Severus Snape must stay within your walls. If he does not, I fear what he will become.”�

 

“What he will _become_?! He’s already a slimy, sneaking, treacherous snake! If he doesn’t kill us three steps in to the house, Sirius will have him murdered. Besides, the barriers will never let him in.”�

 

“Why don’t we test that? If the barriers allow Severus to pass, he remains with you for the next week,”� Dumbledore proposed.

 

James thought it over, considering his barriers. They were made to keep anything and everything evil out, and they were nearly unbreakable. The only problem was, they often had a mind of their own and veer into the most unexpected directions. But Snape… Surely they’d never let _him_ in…?

 

“I guess so,”� Potter agreed slowly. “Just don’t expect all of us alive by September, if he does get through. Which he won’t,”� James reassured himself.

 

“Very well; now, there are two more people I must ask about. One, you have not met. She is a muggle by the name of Petunia.”�

 

“Why does a muggle have to be protected?”� James had nothing against muggles, but why would one have to be so protected as to have to leave home?

 

“She is the sister, of Lily Evans, your final house guest,”� Dumbledore clarified.

 

Albus had not been expecting such a sudden and violent reaction. James leapt to his feet, sending the chair toppling to the ground. His hazel eyes were suddenly blazing, and there was a scowl on his face so furious that Dumbledore had to force himself not to cower. The tension in the room had suddenly quadrupled, and the fireplace bust into white-hot flames. “ _Someone wants to hurt Lily_?!”� James’s voice was soft, filled with the deadly danger of a sneaking predator.

 

Well, that response came as a surprise. Dumbledore was shocked to find that James cared so much for Lily. He had always known that the boy harbored some feelings for Evans, but the passion in his voice was clearly something beyond mere ‘feelings’.

 

Albus rested his gaze on the smoldering one of James’s, and smiled reassuringly. “She will not be harmed once she is within magical wards. Don’t fear, James, Lily will be fine.”�

 

“Yes, she will,”� James whispered, quiet enough so that even Dumbledore did not hear. “I’ll be protecting her.”�

 

~*~

 

Lily Evans was quite livid, to say the very least. A week, with _Potter_! What could possibly be worse than that? Not to mention that none of her friends would be there; she’d be surrounded by the annoying Marauders and a couple of Slytherins. This entire last week of vacation would be probably be spent forcing Potter and his minions not to kill Snape! What a waste of a bloody good week! Dumbledore wouldn’t even explain _why_ Petunia and she were being dragged up to the Potter manor. He had merely told her that Potter would tell her if he wished, and that otherwise she would most likely discover the reason near the beginning of term.

 

She wouldn’t have thought it so strange, except that Petunia was coming too. Of course, this was back before Petunia had developed her profound hatred for magic. While she was one to skirt nervously out of a room where spells were being performed, she had no reason to _hate_ the craft. Just be intimidated by the strength it granted those who held it.

 

“Petunia, come _on_!”� Lily cried, “The fireplace is only hooked up for another six minutes! If we don’t get there in time, I’ll have to owl Dumbledore and set up a new time, and all the effort of getting up so bloody early will be wasted!”� Not that she was in any hurry to see her ruddy year mates, but having been awoken well before the crack of dawn in order to be sent off to hell had put her in a terrible mood, and her patience was worn incredibly thin.

 

The blonde trotted sleepily down the stairs, with her last small bag of necessities. She was yawning, and appeared quite wan. Her face was pale from lack of sleep, and her straw colored hair had been pulled into a simple ponytail. Petunia had shrugged into loose jeans that nearly fell off her straight frame, and her shirt was slightly wrinkled. She looked presentable, but Lily rarely saw her sister so unsophisticated. Perhaps ‘beauty sleep’ really did do people good.

 

“Sorry, Lily,”� Petunia said meekly. Normally, a shouting match would have ensued from Lily’s bossing her sister around, but Petunia was obviously too tired to care.

 

“Good,”� Lily said shortly. “Now, when the fire turns green, step in with your suitcase, and make sure you’re touching me. If you don’t you’ll just be stuck here for the rest of the summer.”�

 

Petunia nodded her agreement, and Lily tossed the small packet of floo powder into the fire. Within moments, it was a fiery lime color, and Lily stepped coolly in, dragging her trunk. She had expanded the fireplace earlier, enough so that Petunia now squeezed hesitantly into leftover space, clutching her suitcase and purse in one hand, the other fisted around her sister’s wrist.

 

“Potter Manor,”� Lily commanded softly, before feeling the sudden spin of the floo network. She heard a screech-like sound from beside her, Petunia’s frightened scream. A moment later, her fit hit solid ground once more, and Lily nearly fell onto the floor; beside her, Petunia had already toppled, bags clutched to her chest.

 

Lily dragged her trunk out before taking the time to look around. The moment she did, Lily found herself in shock. The room was long, its ceiling were high–but not too high as to seem intimidating–and were painted in multiple shades of blue. The walls were a soft white, much of them covered in moving tapestries. Furniture was abundant, all of it apparently antique. One mammoth, glass cabinet housed a series of wands; each lay on their own delicate pillow with the name of their owner before them. Across the room, a slender staircase descended, its rail highly polished.

 

Seconds later, the clattering of feet could be heard on the staircase, before two people came tumbling down. She recognized them instantly: James Potter and Sirius Black. Behind them, Remus came, his footsteps soft and stalking, without the clamp and bang of the other boy’s. Lily spent no time wondering about Peter.

 

Instead, she found herself surveying the noisy duo with distaste. Sirius was smirking at her, dark chocolate hair falling over his piercing, sapphire eyes. He stood well above her, at his height of six’ three”�, and had the build to go with it. His shoulders were broad, his form muscled both naturally and from time spent on the quidditch pitch. The comfortable, dark jeans and blue, form-fitting shirt he wore would have looked simple on any other guy; Sirius turned them into a styled, trendy look of casual sophistication. It was rather annoying, in Lily’s mind.

 

James, however, held another look altogether. He stood two inches shorter than his friend, with his presence less obviously confident. Indeed, Lily might almost have believed he was worried, if such an emotion came to James Potter. But the anxiety was there, in the little frown that lay between his eyes, in the hesitancy of his slow grin. It was in the way he stood, dressed in grass stained jeans and a crimson shirt. Mostly, the nervousness was in his eyes, in the way their hazel no longer seemed to twinkle mercilessly at her, in the way that they bore almost a hidden gaze. It unnerved Lily to no end, seeing him without his cocky grin and egotistical air.

 

“Have a nice floo?”� Sirius asked from before her, his tone displaying the sarcasm.

 

“Yes, of course,”� Lily replied in kind, glaring at both of them.

 

“Temper, temper,”� Sirius scolded, laughing. “C’mon Lils, chill a bit. How was your summer?”�

 

“Dazzling, up until five o’clock this morning. Are you going to tell me what this all about?”� Lily demanded pf James harshly, snappy still from her early rise.

 

James hazel eyes never left her, his grin fading to be replaced with a cool mask of determination. “No,”� he stated simply.

 

“What do you mean, no? Dumbledore said you would explain!”�

 

“No, he said I might tell you. If I thought it was necessary–I don’t.”� He was still calm, though she could see him taking the slightest movement towards his wand, as if she were about to hex him.

 

Lily honestly wished she could. Unfortunately, her birthday wasn’t until September ninth, and as it was summer she couldn’t have harmed him if she wanted to. Instead, she settled on arguing. “ _You_ don’t think it’s necessary? Why should I trust _your_ judgment? Tell me, Potter! Or I swear I’ll hex you to the sun and back!”�

 

He opened his mouth, and then closed it again slowly. A moment later, however, he had given her a half-smile of sympathy. “Sorry Evans, but you know you can’t do that. It’s still what, sixteen days till your birthday?”�

 

Her glare grew more furious, angry that he knew very well she couldn’t use her wand. There went _that_ approach to create some sort of order. “How did you know that?”�

 

James blinked before proceeding to shrug. “It’s the day you always look the loneliest.”� He pointed out softly, then shook his head. “Well, almost–there’s the day we start term and May 23rd too, but that isn’t the same kind of lonely…”� He trailed off, ducking his head under her sharp, wary eyes.

 

There was an awkward silence, in which James stared at the floor, Lily stared at James, Petunia stared at Lily, Sirius stared at Petunia, and Remus stared at them all in amusement. Finally, Remus cleared his throat, causing them all to jump suddenly into the air. “Well, if we’re done with that argument, can we move on to bringing your stuff to your rooms before the next one starts? I’d say we have about thirteen minutes, and we really should try to fit a tour in somewhere. Otherwise living here will be quite a struggle.”�

 

Lily nodded dumbly, and bent to drag her trunk. A moment later it was floating in the air, and she turned her murderous glare upon James yet again. “Potter,”� she began warningly.

 

However, he beat her to the chase. “Believe me Evans; you don’t want to go dragging this around the house. Just let me help, it’s not like I’m asking you to marry me.”�

 

“I’m not an incompetent fool–“

 

“I never said you were.”�

 

“I don’t need some chivalrous knight–“

 

“I’m not trying to be one.”�

 

“Especially someone who’s no chivalrous at all–“

 

“I know, I’m egotistical and pig-headed, no need to remind.”�

 

“So if you think this is going to have any affect on me–“

 

“It won’t, I understand.”�

 

Lily gave another scathingly suspicious look, but left it at that. Whatever game Potter was playing, she wasn’t going to fall for it.

 

Over the course of the next fifteen minutes, Lily and Petunia got a view of the kitchen, the dining room, the library (small but competent), the trophy room (Lily had to admit, the Potter’s had done some marvelous things), and the hallway where James, Sirius, Remus, and soon Peter, were located. Then he led to them to their own hallway, Lily’s trunk still following him obediently.

 

“Here are your rooms. They’re not all set up, because it takes a while to tap into their magical chains, but we got three of them set up. I figure Petunia can have the Sunlit Room, Howling ‘ll have the Sea, and Evans–you can have Mountaintop.”�

 

Behind her, she heard Sirius say something that sounded like, “Mountaintop? But no one–However, he was cut off by Remus’s elbow. For a moment, Lily wondered if James was playing some trick on her, but dismissed the thought. Whatever his faults, he wouldn’t have done anything without the loyalty and approval of his friends, which he didn’t seem to have.

 

Petunia had slipped into her room while Lily had pondered the Mountaintop scenario, leaving her alone with them. Coldly, she turned to James. “You can put my trunk down now.”�

 

“Yeah, yeah,”� he said, clearly preoccupied. A second later, it was on the ground, though he hadn’t even reached for his wand. Lily frowned, but was interrupted from her questions b Potter’s voice. “Um, Lily, there’s just one other thing. I really would like it if you didn’t go too far away, try to keep the manor in sight and all.”�

 

“Why?”� She asked, distracted from his display to his words. “There’s not anything dangerous running around, is there?”�

 

“Not if you stay near me.”�

 

The moment he said it, James knew he was doomed. “Near _you_?! You insufferable prat, I actually thought you were serious! I’m not hanging around so you can pull some prank, or test some stupid pick-up line, or..!”�

 

“Lily,”� he spoke quietly, but with power in his tone all the same. “It’s not like that. It’s… It’s the house.”�

 

Neither of them had noticed Remus and Sirius sidling away, they preferred to remain locked in their little world of debate. “The house? What does the bloody house have to do with this?”�

 

“The house, it’s full of protection spells. Spells to keep people close to the hei–well, to keep people close to me safe. You know you wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t some danger, so please try to listen. Dumbledore’s got a plan, I think. Or at least, The Voices do.”�

 

“The voices? What are you, schizophrenic?”� Lily glared, exhausted, angry, and simply fed-up with this numbing word game.

 

“No, they… I can’t really explain. But they’re important, and so are you. Everyone here, or will be here, we’re all important. I don’t know how, but Dumbledore does. I think he does. Either way, we’re stuck here for now, and if we don’t even attempt cordial conversation this place will end up a murder home.”�

 

“Not as if anyone would care if you died, Potter,”� Lily sneered.

 

James bit back a sharp retort, running a hand through his hair and only stirring up Lily’s hatred. “Just get some sleep, Evans. Snivellus and Howling will be here soon, and things will get ugly then.”� He turned, and walked calmly away from her, head downcast and hands tucked into his pockets.

 

Lily watched him go, head cocked slightly to the side as she considered his disposition. He seemed so… unconfident. Like some terror had befallen him, something he hadn’t been able to fight, and it had shattered him into a quiet, meek teenager. It didn’t fit James at all. There was no egotistical sense of humor, no randy comments, not even a bright, blazing grin. Instead, he was like a ghost of his former self, and it haunted her.

 

~*~

 

Crystal Howling carried a tiny wooden box in one hand, the other holding her wand in a defense position. She didn’t give a damn if Dumbledore said she would perfectly safe here, it was full of _Gryffindors_. She shuddered, despite the boiling weather, and looked icily upon the mansion to which this concrete path was leading.

 

The Potter home, however, appeared no bigger than a one room cottage. The grounds were expansive, surrounded by forest and holding dozens of miniature fields and pockets brimming with flora, and yet the house seemed so miniscule. Inwardly, she was confused as Crystal at last knocked upon the solid wood door, but her expression gave away none of it.

 

There were several beats of impatient silence, before the door was practically wrenched off its hinges by none other than Sirius Black. She glared at him as he grinned cockily down at her petite frame, towering over her almost exactly one foot. His lazy gaze traveled over her, observing the black, baggy jeans and shamrock green t-shirt with a bold display of a silver, bleeding four-leaf clover covering the majority of the cloth. Crystal’s brown, shoulder length hair was pulled back in a hasty ponytail, several unobedient strands escaping it to fall with a languid chilliness over her face.

 

Finishing up his inspection, Black continued to grin at her, irritating Crystal to no end. “Well, are you going to let me in, or am I gonna get the pleasure of hexing you?”� She asked, her tone sincere, for perhaps once in her sarcasm-filled life.

 

Sirius stepped back, and she entered the room where Lily had been not too long before. “I woulda though Potter’s place would be bigger, the way he struts around,”� Crystal commented.

 

“It’s spelled,”� Sirius explained. “You can’t see a room unless you know where it is.”�***

 

“Oh,”� she said quietly, her look uninterested. “Can you show me my room then? I don’t want to leave it any more than I have to.”�

 

“Tsk, tsk, Howling; you shouldn’t be so eager to dash away from the company of your most gallant,”� here he bowed mockingly, “knight. Surely you desire to know the layout of the kingdom, so that your supremeness may manipulate its fair folk to your will.”�

 

Howling cuffed him over the head, as he was still bent over in his ‘bow’. “Shut up, Black, and show me where I’m staying.”�

 

“Fine, fine,”� he complained, rubbing his head, “but that hurt like bloody hell.”�

 

He turned and sauntered towards the staircase, Crystal following stiffly behind him, her amber orbs eerily distant. She barely noted their quick passage through various hallways, or the quick walk through the kitchens. However, Crystal did notice when she ran right into Sirius, causing him to spin around quickly and catch her before she tumbled unhappily to the ground.

 

“Are you okay?”� He asked, gripping her arms firmly with his to support her weight, and noting that she weighed barely anything at all.

 

Crystal jerked herself hastily out of his touch, unnerved by the feeling of a human’s touch. She hadn’t felt that in years, not since… Not for years. “I’m fine,”� she shot, though her eyes were flickering around with uncertainty. “Are we here?”�

 

Had she been… _frightened_ , Sirius wondered? Or was the look of incompetent control merely imagined. Everyone knew Crystal Howling had a reputation for being stone-hearted, and the odd, alarmed impression must have been imagined.

 

In response to her question, Sirius nodded. “Yeah, you’re through there,”� he pointed to a door two away from Lily’s. “It’s called the Sea. They all have names. Lily’s in Mountaintop and her sister’s rooming in Sunlit. Not that you care,”� he said offhandedly.

 

“No, I don’t.”� With that said, Crystal marched into her room, mask set firmly in place once more.

 

~*~

 

Sirius, Remus, James, and the newly arrived Peter all lounged in the living room, chatting amicably amongst each other.

 

“It’s going to be war once Snivellus gets here,”� Sirius was drawling, a wicked grin upon his face. “Filthy bastard, we’ll hex him till he can’t read those ruddy Dark Arts books of his.”�

 

“I don’t know, Padfoot. Maybe we should lay off old Snivellus for a bit; just till we get back to school.”� Three heads turned towards–not their normal voice of reason, Remus–but towards James Potter. “What?”� James asked defensively, “It’s not like we can’t start shucking spells at him once we get to Hogwarts, but we’re not supposed to do magic in front of muggles. Oh, and Howling could team up with Snivvy.”� Sirius shrugged and snorted, but James cut off whatever he was about to say. “Besides, Evans is here, and magic or no she’s got enough temper to blast us all to bits.”�

 

“So _that’s_ what this is!”� Sirius cried triumphantly. “You don’t want to look bad in front of Evans, aye mate? I shoulda known.”�

 

“That’s not it at all, it’s just that–“

 

A moment later, a knock pounded on the door. James glared loathingly at it, tempted to simply stay in one place, but forced himself out of his chair. Behind him, the final three marauders stood, forming his body guard. James edged slowly towards the door, pulling it crawling open with a look of putrid disgust on his face. “Snivellus,”� James greeted him, and an icy hush fell upon the five students.

 

Severus’s hand twitched towards his wand, but he had known he would be outnumbered. And there they were, all four of those damned Marauders, curse them all. He made no response to Potter, instead shoving through to the room. Pitch black orbs roved over the details with a sneer, pale face and ebony hair making him seem almost otherworldly.

 

Thus followed almost ten full minutes of a silent battle of glares, before Remus decided to speak up. “C’mon, Snape, I’ll show you where you’re staying.”� Peter was dragged behind Remus as the three ascended towards the steps, because Lupin knew that his other two friends wouldn’t last three more minutes in the greasy Slytherin’s ‘company’.

 

~*~

 

Surprisingly, the next six days passed in almost dead silence. There was absolutely no interaction between anyone, except the four marauders or when Lily and Petunia were together. It was shocking, yet the house had always had its own plans, and carefully allowed them all to never set eyes upon one of their enemies. (Lily did say hello to Remus once, but there was only so much one house could do, and they weren’t that terrible off.) They were all quite delighted with this setting, at least until the final day of their stay together; the day the manor gained a sense of humor.

 

It was evening, around supper time, something they generally all took within five minutes of each other, and in separate rooms. Tonight, however, the stairs were having quite a bit of fun, and wouldn’t let Lily and Petunias go anywhere but the main room. They just kept ending up in there, despite what path they took. Eventually, Lily and Petunia simply flopped down onto separate armchairs, and decided to eat their dinner there.

 

No more than seven minutes later, Crystal appeared at the bottom of the staircase. She glared distastefully at Lily, then turned back towards the stairs. And found them gone. “What the hell?”� She asked softly, but in the silent room Lily picked up her words.

 

“Did it to us, too. You might as well find a seat.”� Lily commented, before diverting her attention back to her salad.

 

Howling sighed and plopped against the wall near where the stairs had once been, and the room fell silent but for the tiny clicking sounds of the silverware on dishes.

 

Just before Lily was finished, there was a huge rumble of sound and the Marauders raced jovially down the steps. “Don’t–“ both Lily and Crystal cried, only to find that they had left the stairs causing them to vanish.

 

“Oh no, don’t tell me,”� James moaned. “The stairs are disappearing so we can’t get out, and the door is gone.”� He waved to the blank spot on the opposite wall.

 

“We’ll have a slumber party!”� Sirius shouted, for all the world a clueless ten year-old. When six faces turned toward him, annoyed, he gulped. “Or we could sit here in dead silence until they reappear.”�

 

The rest seemed to enjoy this suggestion, and took to it immediately. Sirius took a lay on the floor not far from Crystal, while Remus and Peter lounged on a sofa. James silently took the armchair nearest Lily, and neither bothered to comment.

 

It was surprising, therefore, when Snape ended up locked in the room with the rest of them. He huddled in a corner, shooting them nasty glares and muttering obscenities, but no one paid any attention. They were all carefully paying attention to nothing. Well, most of them.

 

James way paying a great deal of attention to Lily. Her crimson curls were spilling gently around her face, emerald eyes locked on her pale hands. If there was one thing James loved about Lily over all else, it was her eyes. To him, they were endless pools of emerald green, a light so pure and beautiful that it trailed throughout the very soul of a person. It was like drowning in a rainforest, or falling through the sea, all at once. Lily’s eyes were mystery, and passion, and love. Her eyes were life, and the greatest part of it.

 

“Will you stop staring?”� She asked suddenly, shaking them out of their trance-like revere.

 

James blushed and ducked his head, embarrassed to have been caught in the act of devoting over an infatuation. “Sorry, I… got lost.”� He excused himself, wondering if that made any sense at all.

 

“Got lost in what?”� Obviously it hadn’t, “You can’t get lost when you’re in one spot, Potter.”�

 

“I got lost in… thoughts. Dreams, y’know, ‘cause we’re stuck here and you have to think about _something_.”�

 

“Well, stop thinking about me, it’s creepy.”� She turned her eyes, her life giving eyes, away from him, and James sighed. But he couldn’t pull his gaze off her, entranced as he was by her charming figure.

 

It wasn’t long before Lily felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickling again, warning her that he was still staring. Didn’t he ever _stop_? It was so… stalker-ish. She turned around and glared, this time yelling. “Knock it off, Potter!”�

 

He half-jumped in his seat, mumbling another apology. “Sorry, Evans, I just–“

 

“Just what? Though you could stare whenever you like? So the drool falls out of your twisted, conniving mouth and your stupid ego comes up with some perverted fantasy? Stop it, Potter! I don’t like you, so leave me the hell alone!”�

 

“Yeah, I _know_ Evans. You’re oh-so-holier-than-thou, so I can’t even look at you without getting my head chewed off. Will you just leave it alone? The world doesn’t revolve around you! I was looking at the, the wall!”� He cried, his pent up frustration suddenly urging to be released.

 

She slammed to her feet, pools blazing with heartfelt hatred. “Bloody hell Potter, you drive me mad! You’re irresponsible, childish, selfish, unoriginal, cruel, egoistical, bloody _bastard_!”�

 

“Yea, well Evans, guess what,”� there followed a dramatic pause. “You make me _sick_!”�

He heard her gasp with his repeat of her quote, and suddenly she was tearing out of the room through a newly formed door. James took several seconds to register what he’d just done, before taking off after Lily. The door sealed behind him.

 

He was tearing after her, adrenaline coursing through every nerve of his body. _Oh, what have I done? What have I bloody well done?_ James asked himself silently, frustrated beyond end with his actions. His footsteps continued after hers, but Lily was fast, and he guessed that she feared his capturing her. As the wind tore through the his hair, pressing hard against his firm figure, James couldn’t help but want to scream, and barely held up the emotions that ran so fiercely in his blood.

 

In the end, Lily wore her out, as she was unaccustomed to such long-distance runs, especially at her blazing speed. James caught up to her, slowing that he trotted a few paces behind her weary steps. “Evans, I,”� he began, but found her speaking.

 

“Just leave me alone, Potter, okay?”� Her normally cheerful (or furious) voice was lined with exhaustion and bitterness. “I make you sick, remember? Shouldn’t you be hurling now?”�

 

“I didn’t mean–“

 

“I know what you meant. You meant that you hate me, just because I’m not a part of your bloody fan club. All you want is my devotion, and then you can throw it away and claim that I was yours for a day. You wouldn’t know love if it hit you in the forehead with a twenty-pound divination book, Potter.”�

 

“If that’s all you think of me, Evans–“

 

“It is. Because it’s exactly what you are. You’re beneath me, James Potter.”�

 

Now _that_ was simply too much for him to take. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her around to face him eye to eye. “Now you listen to me,”� he began, one hand on each shoulder. “I don’t know why you think you can do this, go around throwing people away. It doesn’t work like that, Lily. You can’t just… rip us into shreds and throw us in the garbage. You can’t do that to me. Maybe you think that it doesn’t hurt, that words don’t hurt an ‘egotistical, sickening prat’, but they do. They hurt like hell, and you can’t keep doing that. You can’t,”� James faltered, and stumbled roughly on, “you can’t keep fighting me. You can’t keep fighting me, Lily.”�

 

With that speech, James turned and walked silently towards the forest, leaving Lily speechless and in tears behind him.


End file.
